


Together, Quiet

by minxiebutt



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Sentinels & Guides, Anxiety Attacks, Asexual Relationship, Eruri in the background for now, Miscommunication, Multi, Mutual Pining, Partnership, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sensory Overload, Sentinel/Guide, Trauma, rating will go up as story progresses, sensory and empathy focus
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2019-01-01
Packaged: 2019-04-16 14:11:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14166606
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minxiebutt/pseuds/minxiebutt
Summary: Mike, a struggling sentinel, and Nanaba, a guide feeling lost in the sea, find one another at last. With guidance from another bonded pair, they start to navigate the compatibility between them.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sure where I'm going with this yet, but there lies darkness ahead.

The rain is cacophonous bouncing around in Mike’s head. It makes him restless and irritable, a too-tall too-tense coil of trained muscles ready to snap at the first minor inconvenience to cross his path. He pushes that destructive energy into something productive instead, but the storm continues past what he can do. That’s when the draw starts.

It’s a hot tickle in his chest, right under the skin. If he could rip his skin open, he’d be able to touch it, but he can’t, so he paws at his chest instead. He lays down in bed for a fitful hour before he finally jumps up with a far-away crack of thunder, throws on clothing, a coat, boots, and leaves with the jingle of his keys. He leaves his phone. He knows where he is going.

He doesn’t understand what brings him to this building five blocks away, but some nights, it feels so maddeningly close, as if he should reach out and take it, but he doesn’t know what or why. He’s captive to his instincts and they demand he appear here often, drenched or otherwise. There are lights on in some of the apartments, but the one he’s drawn to the most is dark. Like a lovesick puppy, he stares at it, wishing for the light to come on and banish him back home with a hot tickle just a little less painful.

One in the morning is still a bustling time for this city. He’s lost in the city center’s rush. So many sounds, so many voices. He could count the number of footfalls and know the size of the crowd if he wanted. The rain washes away most smells, but many are amplified by it. He drags the collar of his coat up to protect his nose from the onslaught, but it’s not enough. Closing his eyes against the brightness of neon flashing, Mike leans his back to the streetlight and waits for the draw to lessen.

Instead, it grows urgent, makes his heart pound. He groans, palming it as he listens to twenty separate conversations all at once, but there’s a startled little “fuck!” and suddenly, it’s deathly quiet.

When his eyes snap open, he zeros in on an occupant of this building. Their back is turned, but he can see them struggling to unlock the front door. He takes a step unconsciously and they drop their keys.

He’s through the crowd and on the bottom step by the time they pick the keys up and begin sorting through the ring to find the correct one. Without turning around, they mutter, probably to him, “Sorry, give me a moment.” The ache in his chest vanishes and he suddenly feels the exhaustion of twenty hours awake.

Mike takes in their scent as he watches their thin fingers shake. If he listens closely, he can hear their erratic heartbeat. They’ve been in a restaurant for hours, something fancy here in the downtown, he can tell by the richness of the smells. In a flash of lightning, he finds they’re blonde under the pink neon advertisements, and the storm is right on top of them because the thunder clap is immediate and deafening. They tense and drop their keys again, and their whole body is frozen long enough for Mike to stoop and collect their keys. It’s a vaguely threatening gesture but he’s compelled to do it, he has to help them in some way. He picks the correct key on the ring, slots it, and opens the door.

A thin hand, palm up, and in the instant it takes for him to give back the keys, he studies them. A jacket soaked through hides most of them, but they’re small, average in height but lacking substance. Tears cling to their eyelashes, and Mike can smell the saltiness more clearly than anything else, and he feels _compelled_ , yet again, to do _something_ , but their heartbeat has levelled out like a mirror sea after a storm, and to encroaoch on their personal space any more than he already has will be predatory.

They don’t thank him. They’re not even looking at him, but rather, somewhere around his chest, and some part of him understands this action. He drops the keys in their outstretched hand on his way down the steps. Already, the world’s noises are filtering back in from the protective little bubble around that person, and he feels more cranky than before.

;

The work week leaves him incredibly frazzled but he knows he should stay away from the building five blocks away. ‘Your Honour, you don’t understand, I had to be near them’ did not hold up in court, and he did not want that person to feel threatened by him. Yes, he thought of them often, of how the world zoomed in on only them, and how his senses were not bombarded with stimuli, but if he tried to explain it in words, he would definitely sound like a stalker.

A passing coworker comes back from lunch break smelling like that person, and he asks them where they went. They tell him the name of the place and it raises his mental alarms because his best friend’s husband works there. Mike thinks of ten possibilities in which he goes there and finds the person he’s after, and he thinks of every scenario going horribly wrong.

But that person, they were a guide. He has to talk to them properly, at least once, to see if they know it.

;

There’s a sentinel nearby, because the world comes slowly into focus. Nanaba stops drowning in the torrent of emotions around her, and just as if she had been physically drowning, she bursts above the surface of her mind, taking a breath of fresh air. She spends so much time locked in her head, unable to move past the colossus, that she isn’t entirely sure what to feel. It’s akin to relief, she thinks.

It’s the same sentinel from a few weeks ago in the thunderstorm. He’s sitting with Erwin in the section Levi is waiting tonight. It’s good to have a face to the presence she’s grown familiar with. Some nights, when she was too overwhelmed, she would begin to inexplicably feel more calm, and she knew if she looked outside, she would see him on the sidewalk below standing under the streetlight. She knows he lives in a building five blocks over, because other nights, she felt compelled to make the journey over, called by a sensory overload bright like a beacon.

Erwin must know that his friend is a sentinel. Levi must know, too, and she’s glad that she doesn’t have to come in contact with him.

She carries on with her duties around the restaurant, relishing the aid of a compatible sentinel nearby to quell her torment. This little intersecting dance they do, where they bounce into one another every few weeks just when everything feels like too much, it’s nice. She wonders, though, if they had a real conversation, would they decide to pair up? Back in the thunderstorm, she’d been so sure he would say something, that he would understand that they’re drawn together, but she’d felt such profound confusion from him that she couldn’t muster the confidence to say anything at all.

“Wanna take this to Erwin's table?”

Nanaba looks over at the adult beverage Levi's grabbed from the bar and placed on a tray. She shakes her head and rolls another set of silverware in a cloth napkin.

“That other guy, his name’s Mike,” the little sentinel says. “He asked me about you, all sly.”

Trying not to let her interest show, she shrugs, but she can feel how Levi is not buying her act. He sets the tray down next to the silverware bin. “Take it over.”

It would be so easy to lose herself in the uncertainty as it wiggles around her neck. She reminds herself ten times to make eye contact. It’s easy with Erwin. She knows him, and he looks up as she approaches. Without knowing what drink Levi is having her deliver, all she can do is hold up the tray, waiting for either of them to raise their hand and take it. Erwin nods his head at his companion, Mike, and she sets the drink down in front of the same big hands that gave her her keys back when she kept dropping them.

“Enjoy,” she tells him, completing forgetting to make eye contact, but at the comforting caress in his lowly spoken gratitude, she feels safe enough to look at him.

He says, “thank you,” and there’s a preternatural quiet in the emotions coming to her from all over the restaurant. She meets his eyes and there’s so much in the world around them, she’s dragged up from her head like never before. The veil is lifted back and the world is bright, the noises are louder, she is suddenly aware of so much more than just the inner hearts of the people around them.

His stare is so intense, she can’t help but feel exposed, so she blinks and looks away, and slowly, the world begins to cloud over again. She can feel Erwin leeching away her desire to run. He reels it in for her, so she stays and looks back at Mike, startled by the bright burst of delight that erupts between them.

“It’s,” Mike starts but he’s clearly at a loss for words.

Erwin and Levi have known one another their whole lives. Theirs was a steady understanding of how the other brought them out of their heightened senses, and in the back of her mind, Nanaba can feel his curiosity as he watches her and Mike staring at one another.

The other guide gently says, “It’s nice, isn’t it, Nana?”

All she can do is nod. To Mike, he says, “It’s finally quiet, huh?”

“So quiet,” Mike agrees. He’s so much more in awe, and then she realises that this is all new for him, that he must not know how it feels when it works.

“I… I should finish my shift,” Nana says slowly. It'll be better for Erwin to explain everything.

;

“You never told me if feels that grounding,” Mike accuses Levi.

The small sentinel shrugs. “Oops.”

“I think you scared her,” Erwin says. They're all crammed in a booth after closing time and Nanaba keeps looking over in their direction, but she's keeping her space. Erwin understands, because the joy Mike is emitting is nearly supernova. Even with Levi at his side, it's a lot to take in. Mike has been watching her so intently, only pulling his gaze back when someone mentions that it's a bit too creepy.

“You said we had mutual friends,” Mike says, slowly tearing his eyes from the new guide and looking to Erwin. “Why hasn't anyone mentioned her?”

“Well,” Erwin drawls. “Levi and I… wanted to be the ones to bring you together, we wanted to witness it, since we're a bonded pair....”

“You were matchmaking?” Mike feels disbelieving.

“Well, we thought you guys’ proximity, you'd find each other, I dunno, organically,” Levi says, defensive. His arms are crossed over his chest. “Apparently you're both dense as bricks.”

Erwin smirks and pulls away Levi's defensiveness. “To be fair, you were getting there. Think of us as just giving you two the last gentle push.”

“She told us what happened in the storm a while back,” Levi says, “and you didn't put it all together?”

Mike sits back in his seat and slouches down. “Did she know?”

“Yeah,” Levi snaps, and Erwin rubs a hand down his thigh to steal this stubborn defensiveness.

“Nanaba had a pretty good idea,” Erwin says. “It's not a big deal. You've met now. That's the important part.”

Levi slides out of the booth. “You two get outta here. I'll take her home, Mike, get that possessive look off your face.”

;

Levi gives her Mike’s number but she decides to sit on it for so long that she forgets she has it. They continue in their strange orbit through the rest of the spring, and in the beginning of summer, thanks to the Smiths, he's an asteroid splitting the atmosphere and creating a crater on her surface.

“You're too skinny,” Levi says, using his protective sentinel tendencies as an excuse to invite her over for dinner twice a week. He shoos her out of the kitchen before she sits with Erwin in the living room.

It's polite to bring an offering when invited to dinner, but they know she's less capable, and Levi has no problem relegating that duty to the other guest always conveniently invited over on the same nights. Mike lets himself in, tonight having a bottle of wine under his arm.

“Hey,” he greets. Erwin responds, she stays quiet. She keeps her words close when they’re together only because she’s not sure of herself. She knows this silence can be interpreted as disinterest, but she can look him in the eye now without hesitation, and she hopes he can understand that the gesture is worth more than any words she can say to him. It’s okay, though, because he’s a quiet person, too. Hopefully soon, the asteroid will break the crust and drive into the mantle, leaving him an easy path to who she is under all the self-defense.

He walks her back to her building after dinner that night and after she unlocks the door, he turns to leave but pauses and turns back. She can feel the conflicting desires radiating from him, the self doubt and uncertainty and nervousness, so she waits quietly as he puts his words together.

“Please don't take this as a sexual advance,” he begins, and that soothes her somehow, which in turn relaxes him as well. “I’d like to have brunch with you this weekend, or lunch, or dinner, if you want. Just us. I’d like to… discuss a partnership.”

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

She had stared at his chest as he made his offer and then nodded without looking at him. She agreed to dine with him, but Mike can't help but feel that he's bothering her, or pushing it onto her, or that she's just humouring him to keep the peace.

Sunday morning, he wrangles the nervous energy before it can become destructive, ironing his nicest shirt and trousers, shining the good loafers that he only wears at weddings or business events. It's a far call from his usual attire when he sees her, but it's brunch after all, and brunch at one of the nicest places in the city. He isn't trying to make her feel inferior, he only wants to do something nice because he knows she can't afford to on a food service salary.

He looks forward to seeing her more than he wants to admit. He always does.

Nanaba is an anchor in the eye of the maelstrom of his senses, a small place where he can rest without being overwhelmed. It feels so childish, how happy she makes him, and he wants to be around her all the time, he thinks of her all the time, but she's so quiet around him that he worries it is one-sided. Erwin gave him sparse reassurance about her without violating her privacy, but Mike feels like a fool for how much he hopes she will form a partnership with him.

;

It feels deceitful to put such an immense amount of trust in him without telling him, but Nanaba really, really wants to have brunch. The only problem is that she's never been to the restaurant he suggested, and it's not safe in her head. She knows that realistically, it's not any more dangerous to go there than anywhere on her small list of usual places, but it's the unknown that makes her anxious. So, she will trust Mike, because he's a sentinel and he's proving to be trustworthy, but she's still afraid.

She's a little dizzy with how much she likes him. Sunday, she wakes up more excited than she's been in a long time, and it scares her to feel this way. Regardless, she gets up and gets ready and does her best to stifle her mixing emotions. She walks there by herself because she doesn't want her anxiety to make him feel bad for asking her to go out for this not-date discussion, and as she gets closer, and her surroundings break through the cloud of emotions both hers and foreign, she feels his bright beacon of joyful nervousness. It makes her smile.

Mike is seated out on the balcony when the hostess brings Nanaba to him. He stands as she insists on seating herself, more than a little self-conscious in her blue button-down and grey slacks. She and Mike inadvertently match.

There's the smallest wait between ordering and being served, and they fill it with talk about their mutual friends. It's easy and safe. It doesn't dig too deep too soon, but too soon their meal is over and it's time for the reason they're here.

“Hey, about a partnership,” he begins, and she's so excited to talk about it that she feels her stomach lurching dangerously. “Are you open to... one?”

Partnerships between sentinels and guides tend to run longterm of lifelong, in a variety of intimacy levels, and she nearly pukes right then and there. She wants to ask him a thousand questions and find out everything about him that he's willing to tell, and she knows it's too much, that this sort of behaviour is unacceptable and clingy, so instead, she plainly says, “Yes.”

Mike’s nervousness spikes and instantly, she grabs at it, pulling it away from him and dispelling it. She's not yet to Mike like Erwin is to Levi, she won't push a gentle emotion onto him, but she'll take away his negative.

“I've never met a compatible guide,” Mike admits, leaning in, and she mirrors his position before she can stop herself. She's being too forward, she needs to draw back, but something about being closer to him is too alluring to deny. “I'm okay with remaining platonic, I don't need anything romantic to be a good sentinel to my partner.”

Nanaba deflates but keeps the disappointment tucked tight in her chest and away from her tear ducts. She nods. “I'm alright with that, too.”

“Okay,” and Mike offers her a grin and a hand to shake. “Partners?”

She squeezes a fist to do away with the tremor in her hand before raising it to shake his and seal the deal. “Partners.”

;

“Hey, about a partnership.” Mike wants desperately to ask her if she's open to dating, but he brings up the partnership and a sick look crosses her face and it stops him in his tracks. “Are you open to,” he starts and he wants so badly to say ‘a relationship’ but she's looking at him with eyes like a deer in the headlights so instead, he asks, “one?”

After the handshake, they talk for a little while longer, and she's the first to suggest they leave. She looks anxious, like she's ready for this to be over, and Mike is glad he didn't push her further than he already has. He thinks that maybe he's reading her all wrong, and that he's taking advantage of their compatibility as a reason to push himself on her.

He offers to walk her to her apartment but she politely declines, and he reminds himself of that for the rest of the day, whenever he gets the urge to send her a text.

Mike is glad that his work week begins again tomorrow. It'll be a good distraction from the mess he's making with Nanaba. In the meantime, he busies himself with projects and tries not to let himself feel too hopeful when he thinks of the partnership.

;

In the safety of solitude at home, she cries until the ball of stress between her shoulders lessens. There's too many contributing factors to truly understand why she feels the need to sob into her palms on the floor of her living room, so she patiently rides it out until she's emotionally exhausted. Like a low hum in the background, she feels the draw but she ignores it. It's clear that she and Mike want very different things from one another, and she's learned from her mistakes. She's not a teenager anymore, she now knows when to back off.

It was stupid, she thinks, to hope for anything more than a general acknowledgment that they are good for one another and should use that to their benefit.

 

 

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

She's not really sure what to do with Mike anymore, so she is happy to let the routine continue in without changing it. Erwin, on the other hand, finds the progress of their partnership to be unsatisfactory, and as soon as Mike arrives with wine for dinner that night, he asks the giant sentinel, “You only wanted a partnership, not a relationship?”

Everyone in the room freezes, and in the corner of her eye, Nanaba sees Levi leaning back to spy on the trio in the living room. She had already updated Levi at work a few days ago, so she knows the Smiths have discussed this prior to tonight, and she can feel the smugness rolling off Erwin's nonchalant shoulders.

“Uh,” Mike drawls blankly.

“Well?” Levi interjects from the kitchen, demanding and defensive. “You said she was cute.”

“You said she was cute,” Erwin agrees, inviting himself to take the wine bottle from Mike’s stupefied fingers. “Oh, merlot, very nice!”

“Thanks,” Mike says a little dumbstruck. “I, uh--”

Nanaba watches him try to gather his disarrayed thoughts, and she takes a step closer. They haven't touched before, so carefully, she runs the tip of her finger along the sleeve cuff of his button down to unravel his embarrassment. She pushes some confidence onto him in exchange, a little shyly because Erwin can feel what she's doing and she knows he approves.

“Thank you,” she murmurs. “You're handsome, yourself.”

It's Mike who leaps over the bridge and claims her hand, his fingers meeting at her wrist and sliding down to invite themselves between her smaller ones. Through the contact, she feels the exchange of emotions surge, her cheeks flushing for him as he says, “You're beautiful, Nanaba.” And then he lifts her hand and leans down to meet it halfway for a kiss on the knuckles.

It's so cliche romantic but she likes the gesture regardless. She likes that even though they've only agreed on something platonic, he's willing to initiate touch like this. It pins the veil back so that even when he releases her, the world remains colourful and bright. There's clarity to the tug and pull of each emotion at her grasp, but it's as if they've organised themselves into neat little bobbins rather than tangled spools. Is this how it feels for Erwin all the time? She's never been touched in a way that relieves the confusion so profoundly. It unearths a greediness in her, something that makes her want to get on her knees and lick Mike’s palms.

After that errant thought, her blush rises up to her ears and she looks away as Mike and Erwin chatter, the other guide a gentle brushing along the back of her mind, curious of her response to Mike’s gesture.

She doesn't hide her confusion at Erwin's greeting question, either. It's something she wasn't expecting, and especially out of his mouth like that. Levi summons her over his way with a wishfulness, and when she gets in the kitchen, he lifts an eyebrow and says, “Think of the devil.”

“None other.” Nanaba shrugs. The Smiths are acting so out of the usual tonight. She's not sure what to make of the behaviour.

“You should've heard him last week,” Levi snickers, only loud enough for her to hear where she stands beside him, leaning against the kitchen counter while he stirs a pot on the stove. “Covering his face and exclaiming how cute you were.”

“Well, you should've seen him Sunday,” she retorts. She doesn't really want to reopen that discussion.

“You were doing your thing, weren't you?” Levi looks her way and narrows his eyes. “That thing when you're stoic as shit but you think you're being too expressive.”

“No,” she starts.

“You and Erwin both, I swear,” Levi huffs. “Those analytical, blank stares. It's creepy. You probably made him think you hate him.”

Nanaba groans and tosses her head back, letting it thump against the cabinets.

“I knew it.” Levi replaces the lid on the pot and turns to face her with his arms folded across his chest. “Don't worry. Erwin's planned to have fun.”

“Please don't tease him,” Nanaba insists.

“Oh, Nana, no. Erwin’s got words for both of y'all.”

“But what did I do wrong? He's the one who led the conversation, he's the one who said we should be platonic!”

“Did you talk to him or did you just go along with it?” Levi stifles his frustration before she can grab it. “I really think you're over correcting. I know you're worried about making the same mistakes this time, but--”

“I'm not,” she interrupts. She can't hear Levi talk about it, not right now. His tone always morphs into a bizarre coo, like he's trying not to startle her or frighten her away. “I'm not over correcting. I'm just being careful.”

“Too careful,” Levi adds. She lets him have it because the other two party members are joining them in the kitchen.

;

Erwin insists Mike sit beside Nanaba at dinner, and he spends the entire meal hyper-aware of her every little shift and movement in reaction to Erwin's benign teases. She volunteers to wash the dishes, since Levi cooked and Mike brought wine, and Erwin joins her.

“Give them a sec,” Levi says to Mike, motioning to the balcony with a jerk of his head. “They gotta do weird guide shit. I upset her before dinner.”

Out in the balcony, Levi leans his elbows on the railing while Mike sits in one of the loungers. For a few minutes, they both take in the scents on the night air, the sounds of the city approaching midnight. The whole time, Mike entertains the nagging feeling that he's failing already, that he should be the one soothing Nanaba instead of Erwin, but he knows the Smiths were the first people she met when she moved here. Compared to Erwin, Mike knows nothing about her. And really, it's not far from the truth. What he knows about her are slivers of information, but he's never been able to coax much from her before she's clamming up and telling him that she's oversharing. And what does she know about him? Is he using her modesty to talk too much about himself? He wants to share with her but he doesn't want to bombard her with information that she didn't ask for.

“Erwin is gonna say this in a playful way, but I'm not.” Levi breaks the silence and sweeps his eyes over the city until they land on Mike. “Y’all’re both fucking idiots. You like each other but you're both pretending you don't.”

“I kinda gathered,” Mike says. “Erwin's not being subtle.”

“He's not, but he's being joking. And I'm being serious. She wants a relationship with you. Do you want one with her?” Levi sounds protective beyond what their years of friendship compare to how long he's known Nanaba. “She's been through shit and this caution, like you're not sure she's worth it, is just gonna stress her.”

“I don't want to stress her,” Mike says. “I can't offer what a man should in a relationship--”

“Cause you don't like to fuck? So what?” Levi shrugs his shoulders animatedly. “It's not even about that, Mike. Answer my question.”

“I do,” Mike replies without hesitation. “I would love to build a relationship with her, but…”

“But what? You're compatible, you like each other. But what?”

Mike stares at Levi and Levi stares right back.

 


	4. Chapter 4

“You haven’t heard from her at all?” Erwin asks, leaning over his coffee expectantly when Mike huffs.

When Mike came in from the balcony after dinner that night, Nanaba had already left, and Levi says she has Mike’s number, but she hasn't shown any interest in texting him, so there is no way for him to talk to her. If it weren’t for the draw burning hot in his chest every night, Mike would swear she doesn’t want to be found. As much as he wants to go looking for her, wherever she’s gone to, he feels like it’s a major violation of her trust for him to seek her, and he tells that to Erwin.

“This is my fault,” Erwin says. “I should not have interfered past introducing you and matchmaking.”

“Why did you?” Mike asks, more of curiosity than maliciousness.

“Because you need each other.” Erwin looks at him. “You both need more from each other than a simple partnership, you both need certainty and intimacy. But it wasn’t my place to try and force it. I should have let you two figure it out together, instead of pushing so hard.”

Mike goes home half an hour later, feeling ready to rip his skin off. He is frustrated with Erwin, and the frustration has spiralled down into agitation and overload. His heart thunders, and he can feel his pulse all over his body, as if he is aware of every capillary, and that steady, predictable beating makes him grit his teeth. He can feel every drag of bones on cartilage in his joints, he can feel every pound of weight as it distributes through each foot as he walks. Every swell of his lungs is agony for the way the alveoli scream from use. He barely remembers pushing into his apartment and locking the door before he drops to his knees and faceplants. It’s out of control now, there is no way for him to snap out of it, so all he can do is ride it out.

Sometime later, the storm begins to abate, but instead of crashing into unconsciousness, Mike finds his mood elevating. More quickly than he’s ever experienced before, Mike is able to pick himself up off the floor, and it’s just in time for his intercom to beep. Without needing to confirm his suspicion, he buzzes Nanaba up.

He can hear her particular rhythm of footsteps coming down the hall, and she doesn’t look at all surprised when he opens his door before she can knock. Stepping to the side, he wordlessly invites her in, watching the way she inhales and takes the step.

Neither of them speak for several minutes. They don’t need words, Mike thinks. It’s bizarre, but he feels keenly aware of her in ways that he didn’t think were possible for a sentinel. Is this what it feels like, even if just a tiny bit, to be a guide? He can feel her worry as it’s washed away by relief, then her hesitation. He touches her without thinking, cupping her shoulder and squeezing. They lock eyes, and what comes blossoms slowly between them, a warm bandage of comfort on Mike’s tired senses, and then he feels her emotions slip back from the forefront of his mind.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” she says and looks away. She's withdrawing.

“Thank you for coming over,” he rushes to say, hoping to get an answer before she clams up. He remembers his conversation with Levi on the balcony, and he knows he needs to shed his reservations and dive in. “Was it too much to ignore?”

“It was bad,” she breaths and looks back at his eyes. “I couldn't refuse the draw.”

Mike pulls her in by the grip he has on her shoulder, and he prays that it's not too much as he wraps his arms around her. What he expects is tension and tolerance, but she melts readily into him. She melts like she's been waiting months for him to do this, like she's been wanting it.

“You were in pain,” she whimpers against his chest with such a striking vulnerability that Mike feels his heart squeezing. “You needed me, I _had_ to come.”

“I'm okay now,” he tries to reassure her. She's being so open with him, she's saying so much, and he's not sure how to keep her from feeling like it's too much. If he's gentle, maybe he can ask more questions that usual. “But how do you feel?”

“Good,” she mutters against his shirt. When she goes to pull back, he presses her face down again with a big hand in the back of her head. Very quietly, she gasps. He hears it.

“Nanaba,” he whispers, uncertain. “Can I touch you?”

There's the brief flash of tension he was expecting, but it's replaced by the way she leans further into him, rubbing her forehead against his shirt. Just as quietly as she gasped, she gives him permission. “Yes.”

Mike keeps his arms around her as his hands move to settle on her hips, pulling her in so that she feels how much he wants her close. “And… can I kiss you?”

“ _Please_.” She shudders with it.

Mike brings his hands to either side of her neck and slides them up until they're forming a cradle below her jaw, and then he lifts her gaze to meet his as he trails one of his thumbs over her lips. Her breathing is controlled as he traces the seam of her mouth twice, and on the third pass, her tongue wets her bottom lip with anticipation. Carefully, Mike angles his head and leans down, licking his own lips. Eyes half-lidded and focusing on one another’s mouths, they come together for the barest of brushes.

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning for descriptions of an anxiety attack

She shows him the frighteningly vulnerable parts of herself, so she does the only thing she knows: she runs.

 Standing in his apartment after his sensory overload, he embraced her, touched her, kissed her a single time in a way that anyone their age would hardly consider a kiss, and her own longing for more scared her into fleeing.

 Mike tries to follow, but she hides because that is one thing she knows how to do. Emotional intimacy-- that’s a vessel covered in scars from a mother who didn’t know how to separate ‘daughter’ from ‘confidant’ in any sense. A mother who, from Nana’s early age, used her as a diary, as an emotional gatekeeper, because Nana’s desire to make people _feel_ better could manifest results. From too young, she was charged with a woman’s secrets. She doesn’t know how to be close without becoming a crutch.

 It would be different if she had Mike, like Erwin had Levi as children. They collided in grade school, carefree and curious of the low humming draw between them. Together, they grew. Together, they understood the quiet that blossoms between them, two sets of heightened senses relaxing at long last. They never had to run far for comfort, they didn’t go years without.

 Nana’s own sentinels were never so kind, but then again, why should they be, with one little guide so desperate for affection?

 She will not spoil Mike. He is good. He is too good for her. She should have met him twenty years ago, unscathed, still open and trusting. Not weary like she is now. She is ten-thousand years old, and he is a young sun rising in its first morning. She’ll die old and alone and bitter at her mistakes but they belong to her, they’ll be the one thing she has left when everyone else is gone.

 Drawing the sheets tighter, she shakes in the cold sweat, tries not to whimper. She’ll die someday, she’ll die tonight, she’ll die in eighty years but she. Will. Die. It’s an instant that lasts an eternity and it’s all-consuming and blinding and then-- it’s alleviating, and she curses. This is not for him to see.

 Her phone chimes on the nightstand first, and she turns away from it, a pathetic heap of bedding sweat-drenched. She releases the whimper then. She can feel his blazing heat, a safe place to be if she would let herself fall into the trust, but she cannot because she is scared.

 “Just go,” she mumbles, breaking down in a whine when he knocks on her front door instead.

 His pleading is a tug through her bones like a harpoon’s retraction.

 “I don’t want you to see,” she begs back.

  _Let me see,_ wheedles its way into her mind. _Let me see, Nana…_

 “Nana,” Mike says from beyond her apartment.

 Her tiny rented room, barely a studio, barely even a storage closet, a pathetic thing just like her. She works overtime just to make the rent, that’s how desperate she was to get away from the last one. She gave him too much power and he made himself her everything. She should have let him kill her, too.

 “Mike,” she whines, and she means to tell him to leave, but he catches her sound and replies.

 “I’m here, Nana, just let me in.”

 There’s soothing in his voice and it pulls at her. She rolls off her mattress and crawls to her door where she collapses, a groaning mess.

 “I’m right here, just open up, okay, Nana?”

 She twists her head to look up at the deadbolt. It’s high, too high, and she lays her head back down and thinks about how it will feel when she sinks down for the final time, when her body gives out, and she finally dies.

 “Nana,” Mike croons, lacing with pain, “Nana, please let me help.”

 It’s because he’s touched her now, she thinks. He’s touched her and he’s soiled himself on her. She’s a malignant tumour in him, in his good and pure heart. She’s infected him. That’s why it’s hurting him this badly for the first time. She should have stayed away. She should have never come near him.

 “Go,” she breathes. She’s too exhausted. She’ll accept death. It is inevitable, after all. Why not now?

 “I won’t go,” Mike refuses. “I’m here for you. I’m your partner. I’m your sentinel. Let me be good for you.”

 She whines again, her throat raw from it. She looks at the lock again, and Mike is only through the door, less than a meter. He’s so close, he’s too close.

 “That’s it,” he croons, a sound soft and soothing. “That’s it, just let me in.”

 It’s within arm’s reach. She could let him in. She could let him be good to her. It would be so easy. It’s so frightening. She will dirty him. She will drag him down. That’s all she’s good for.

 “Just a little further,” he encourages her as her fingertips miss the knob the first time. She doesn’t question how deep their bond flows for him to know, because in the next swat, the bolt comes undone and Mike is pushing in.

 “Hey, Nana,” he coos, so sweet that she whimpers. She is a raw heap of frazzled, tangled nerves and heartstrings. He locks the door behind him. “Can I touch you?”

 She whines ambiguously but he can feel her meaning, and he hoists her up into him arms for the brief journey back to her bed. He’s warm and soft in a way that feels like home. He lays her down again, tells her, “I’m gonna turn on a light and get some water, alright?”

 “I’ll die,” she groans, finding his hand and twining their fingers. She didn’t know how much she needed him until he was carrying her, but now that she knows, she can’t release him.

 “Okay,” he says instead, laying down beside her. “You’re not going to die, not yet. Not while you have me.”

 “But how long will I have you?” She cries.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> incredibly short update! I'm sorry

The heart palpitations ease the longer he lays beside her, as do her cries slowly wane until she's only sniffling every so often. Over the course of their cooling, they conjoin, rolling closer on the mattress; her head lays pillowed by his arm and she curls tight against his chest so that her ear is pressed over his heart. Listening closely, he finds her own heart rate is steady.

Erwin was right, Mike thinks as he chances a look around her bare, one-room apartment. Nanaba has never complained about money, but it's obvious that she lacks it. Still, she seems too proud to admit her less than ideal situation, the kind of pride that only comes from being dependent on someone else for everything before finally forging into hard won self-sufficiency. He wouldn't offer to take it from her; decides in that moment that he will not encroach in her sense of independence. It's important to her, he can tell.

Mike looks back down at her face to find her eyes half-lidded and aware, watching him. Gently, he croons, “Hey.”

She only hums back.

“Do you want me to go?”

She shakes her head in two subtle motions, careful in not breaking their eye contact. Mike kicks his shoes off one after the other and they watch one another’s faces as he slips out of his jacket, too. Hesitantly, he drapes an arm over her shoulders, and when she accepts the touch by melting limply into him, he lets his hand move naturally, finding the nape of her neck to cradle.

Just days ago, she had pulled him out of sensory overload and let him touch her and said ‘please’ in the most beautiful way when he asked to kiss her. He doesn't understand this change, and while it would be self-centered to consider himself the catalyst, he can't help but worry what caused this, for her sake, rather than the sake of his ego. Because this was deep. This splintered through his chest and dragged him to her in a way he's never experienced. He didn't know sentinels could be so connected to a guide.

It’s too soon to try and prod her for answers and backstory, so he says, “You've got me.”

She nods slightly, a dreamy motion. Mike stays awake as she fades into shallow unconsciousness, and he lays there, thinking of how best to phrase the questions boiling inside of his head so that he doesn't scare her off.

;

She's not social when she wakes up again, so he sees himself out before dawn with a permissed kiss to her forehead, giving back her privacy. All day at work, he's distracted by the scent lingering on his forearms and hands. There's so much anguish in that sweet smell, it hardly seems like it belongs to Nanaba.

He’s heading home when Levi texts him, telling him that a certain ‘little guide’ called in sick. It makes him worry, it makes him want to check on her, though Mike knows Nana is an adult.

Their schedules don't line up for group dinner again until the next week. Mike is eager and early with his wine, and the sight of her on the sofa beside Erwin soothes his frazzling nerves. The world finally begins to quiet again, his senses dampening into a bearable hum. This week has been long without her.

Mike perches on the arm behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder as he leans down to plant a kiss into her hair. “Hey.”

She hums, a response that he's getting used to. He knows his kiss is welcome with the way she leans her head back into it. They haven't agreed on labels for their shift from partnership to relationship, and as much as he wants to lay a claim, he's waiting for her to make the first move.

“So,” Erwin says, but nothing else.

“So.” Mike feels something tugging on his calm hopeful state, but he's not sure which the guides is prodding him.

“I asked Erwin to help us,” Nanaba fills in, shifting to look at him. “To help me. So that we communicate better.”

Mike looks between the two for a moment, not quite understanding the problem. His confusion is reeled away in an instant, even more so when Nanaba blurts out, “I really, really like you, Mike.”

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we're back.

Erwin mediates without interfering. He gets both Mike and Nanaba to admit that they like each other, and then to explain in what ways they feel. It’s a little startling for her to realise how in sync they’ve been this whole time, how they’ve both been so afraid, so cautious, not wanting to hurt the other. When she feels Mike’s desire for privacy, she backs away and the conversation abruptly ends. Erwin doesn’t press.

She lets Mike walk her back home, the distance between their bodies slightly awkward with uncertainty from the half-finished conversation before, until she hooks her arm around his with an attempt at confidence, “We make a good pair.”

The surprised tsunami becomes a high tide of happiness, and Mike brings his free hand to cover hers where she’s looped around his arm. 

“I think so, too.” Mike curls his fingers and then strokes them over hers, a shy movement that she welcomes by catching his fingertips on the next pass and trapping them between her own, so that they twine. She pours her blooming feelings of safety into the touch. “Thank you… for not making me talk about it all in front of Erwin. I know you wanted him to help.”

“He helped enough. The rest is up to us.” Nanaba leans her head down toward their hands and without hesitation kisses where they’re joined, feeling her stomach flip and flop when she hears a gasp. With her lips where she just kissed, she asks, “Mike. Will you stay tonight?”

His whole body tenses before she can feel the flush of fear, of embarrassment, and she pulls away at it, leeching it from his body entirely. For a moment, it seems that no matter how much of it that she takes from him, there is twice as much to replace it, but then it slowly begins to wane to the point that he can clear his throat.

“Nanaba, there are some things I have to be honest with you about.” 

She squeezes the fingers twined with hers and interrupts when he pauses. She’s nervous to think about exposing this, about offering this vulnerability to him, but she can feel how much she needs to, how important it is to do this now. “I do, too, Mike.”

This time, the wave of surprise comes in slowly before it morphs into something like hopeful understanding, hopeful that they can share this together and find comfort in the knowledge that they might be similar. She listens to the patter their steps as they walk, taking delight in the way she can pick up finer details in the sound, details that she’s usually deaf to when she’s locked inside her head. The only emotions she can feel tonight are hers and Mike’s. The world exists around them, but it does not consume her. She sinks a little further into his side with a content sigh, a move that seems to dissipate both of their nervousness.

At her apartment, Mike steps in beside her with hesitation. They let one another go to remove their shoes.

“Tea?” Her voice warbles just the barest bit, and she swallows down the vibrato. “I have a really nice valerian blend that is pretty soothing.”

Mike smiles at her. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Nana replies. She gets down the tea set Levi gave her for her last birthday, a violet and gold pansy-themed pot with cups and saucers. It’s colouring is an inverted match to one of Levi’s sets, and it’s one of the nicest things she has to call her own. “Will you fill the kettle?”

Mike nods, joining her in the kitchen. She’s hyperaware of the sound his socked feet make on her tiles, something she’s not used to. This is what it’s like to have someone share a space with her, someone who doesn’t keep on their boots because she might need to be taught a lesson--

The errant thought makes her breath hitch, and she locks it away before it can fully form into something that births panic. With Mike here, the task is easier.

He is a warm sun against the icy side of a mountain, thawing dangerous terrain and making it hospitable. Beside her, he fills the kettle and sets it back in the cradle, clicking it on. The burbling seems to comfort them both while Nana prepares the tea until it’s time for her to pour in the hot water. There’s no table for them to sit at, so with the tea set between them, they sit on the counters and wait for the tea to steep.

“It smells… different this time,” Nana says to fill the space between them. Her hand braces on the edge, Mike’s own just a few centimeters away. 

“That’s probably because of me,” Mike sheepishly supplies. “Even for a sentinel, I’ve got a keen sense of smell.” He looks down and there’s a grin on his face as he lowers his voice. “Can we try something?”

“Like what?”

“I know that when I’m with you, I start to feel what you feel. Do you get the same thing?” Mike looks up at her, meeting her eyes with his intense gaze. It silences her. All she can do is nod, breathless. Mike doesn’t look away as he slides down from the countertop and holds out his hand. “Trust me?”

She moves like a reflection of him, joining their bodies at the offered extremity. “Yeah,” she says, probably too quickly by social standards, but with Mike, she doesn’t have to worry about that. Lurking within both of them is an eagerness.

Stepping behind her, Mike takes her by the shoulders. Near her ear, he whispers, “Close your eyes.”

Nanaba obeys, and she can feel Mike’s grip falter for a second. If she’s emitting too strong a giddiness, she doesn’t even try to hide it. She wants him to feel it, and she thinks he must like what he feels, because his hands cup her shoulders in a squeeze before grasping her upper arms. This is without a doubt an intimate embrace, made even more wonderful by the lack of urgency she feels between them. This is touch for the sake of touch, nothing meant to coax up lust. She sinks into his hold with a hum.

“Take a sniff,” Mike murmurs, breath caught on consonants, but she hears him so clearly. Leaning down a little, Nana breathes in the warm steam coming from the teapot’s spout, and it’s like never before. She can smell every speck of the infusion, even down to the rich copper of earth that the valerian grew in. The tea is so sweet but the bitterness is just as strong, not unpleasant in any way, but… intense. Intense like Mike’s eyes when he meets hers. She takes another breath, trying to dissect every little bit of information. Beside her, Mike leans down over her shoulder, doing the same, and then in very, very quiet words, he explains to her what every little scent is.

When Mike lets her go, she opens her eyes and serves them tea with new appreciation. 

After the first cup, Mike brings them back to their discussion with a cloud of insecure embarrassment that Nana wades through to get to him. Looking down at his feet, he explains his asexuality to her in a way that tells her exactly how many times he’s faced rejection for it. As he speaks, Nana moves into him, lifting his arms and tucking them around herself like a child with a security blanket. When he finishes speaking, she presses a kiss over his heart.

“You’re perfect for me, Mike.” Nana looks up, craning her neck and resting her chin against his breastbone. He meets her look of wonder with his own, and then she tells him everything.

**Author's Note:**

> [mike and nana's song for this fic](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vZtCvc99V10)
> 
> Come see my [tumblr](http://minxiebutt.tumblr.com)


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